March 19, 2004
Steve, Don't Eat It! Vol. 5
Until now, the foods I've sampled for this section have all come from the supermarket. Then one day I realized that a perfectly viable "Steve Don't Eat It" candidate has been sitting right under my nose for months. Right in my very own refrigerator. And it came right out of my wife! No, I'm not talking about that giant cucumber, perv. I'm talking about breast milk.
That's right. And not just a little drop off the odd finger, but a genuine slug of freshly-pumped wife juice. (I'll go ahead and ignore the shiver I just got, and keep typing.)
Thinking about actually drinking breast milk has caused me to ponder the question: Is it not weirder to drink cow's milk which is truly intended for baby cows? The answer: Hell no! The only thing weirder than me drinking breast milk, is the fact that milk is coming out of my wife's chest in the first place. It sure as hell didn't do that when I met her. I'm telling you, the whole thing is lunacy. I love my wife, but does she really have to be such a mammal?
Okay, I have put this off long enough. The time has come. I'm off to The Booby Bar to see what they've got on tap...
Oh, where do I begin?
Well, I did feel the need to find the appropriate glass. Drinking it from a baby bottle seemed too on the nose (not to mention too creepy), and I didn't have enough milk to justify a martini glass. (Although with a splash of Bailey's I suppose you'd have yourself a nice "Nippletini.") Luckily the "Dumbass Website Gods" smiled down upon me. I came across the only shot glass we happened to have in the house, and it was actually from Wisconsin -- The Milk State!
I must admit that my aversion to drinking breast milk is something of a double-standard. Let me try to put this as delicately as I can out of respect to my female readers... but some women have been known to willingly "ingest" a certain dubious "body fluid" made by men, during moments of "intimacy." (These moments are known as "blow jobs." These women are known as "awesome.")
Nevertheless, I couldn't bring myself to just do the whole shot at once, so I started out with a little girly sip. And the truth is it's not that bad at all. It tastes like milk, just slightly more sweet. And mentally, just slightly more making me want to gargle with Clorox and assume the fetal position while I question my life.
Now, while I may have issues with drinking this stuff, I have been a huge fan of its packaging for years. You may be interested to know that breast milk is now available in a variety of convenient sizes:
from the portable, half-pint container...
to the more economical one gallon jugs.
To make things more interesting, and a little bit easier on myself, I decided to break out the Hershey's syrup and whip up some chocolate breast milk.
This time I just knocked the shot right back, and two words immediately came to mind: Yoo Hoo. It tasted just like good ol' Yoo Hoo. I almost want to say that drinking breast milk isn't so bad, except the other two-word phrases that also came to mind were "stomach pump" and "kill me."
I'm officially leaving all future breast milk drinking in the capable hands of my baby boy -- the one guy who now gets to second base with my wife way more than I do. But, I don't mind. I love that little asshole.
(All volumes of Steve, Don't Eat It can be found here.)
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